


Still the same

by Ruquas



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexuality, Asexuality Spectrum, Fandom Trumps Hate, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24080407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruquas/pseuds/Ruquas
Summary: Mycroft was pretty certain he didn’t stare at the other man with his mouth hanging open, but he felt as if he did. And Greg? He just stood there, relaxed, no sign of being uncomfortable or irritated that Mycroft took longer for an answer than it should take.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2019





	Still the same

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Trumps Hate. The bidder would like to remain anonym, but I really hope you like it <3
> 
> A big thank you at gabby227, who beta read this for me *-*

It wasn’t often that Mycroft found himself intrigued by other people. At least not on this level. Usually, they were pretty… mundane. Talking about boring stuff, doing boring stuff, never asking the right things, or never seeing them.

And when someone else did, they got mean. An occurrence that happens rather often when Sherlock was involved. And then, people often provided another reason to not indulge them further - the way they treated Sherlock. Sure, they never treated Mycroft that way, at least never… obvious. Several reasons, same outcome. 

And no matter what people thought of him, he actually liked his brother. Enough to refuse advances from people who thought it was funny to act unacceptable with his brother around, next to other reasons. Even more, they thought it was funny to do so even when Mycroft _wasn’t_ around. 

That made it even more of a surprise when Sherlock started talking one day about a police officer who listened to him. And not just like you would listen to a small kid, maybe, but obviously listening to the points Sherlock made. Which was pretty amazing on its own. But Sherlock also seemed to _like_ that man. Which was nothing short of amazing and quite the accomplishment.

And when Mycroft met this police officer? Well, he certainly couldn’t say that he expected Greg Lestrade. He had expected an older gentleman, maybe, someone who thought of Sherlock as an oddball but nothing more. He didn’t expect a man who certainly had been a jock in school and was the same age as Mycroft.

Mycroft neither expected that Lestrade declined the money with an insult most sailors would be jealous of.

Neither did Mycroft expect to start to like this man.

But when Lestrade (“For God’s sake, call me Greg… hell, both of them stubborn as a mule…”) actually started to _flirt_ with him. And that was… something new. Not something that Mycroft expected and certainly not something where Mycroft knew how to react. This wasn’t something people did after they met Sherlock. Or got to know him better.

It wasn’t entirely unwelcome, either. Greg was an attractive man, after all. Just not someone who usually seemed to be interested in people like Mycroft. Or in men, overall.

To his surprise, the flirting didn’t disappear after a few weeks. Or months. And that’s why Mycroft was steeling himself now to ask the other man out.

God, how he hated that. It just wasn’t his… thing. He preferred if the other part asked. But he knew what people expected of him. He was just too big, too confident to be asked out. Of course, people assumed that he would ask them out.

It was logical and Mycroft had nothing against logic. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it.

He took a deep breath and walked into the police station. He had to be here anyway (something about Sherlock having a breakdown due to a new forensic… Andrews? Anders?), so better to get over with it. 

And just because the other man flirted with him it didn’t mean that he would like to go out with Mycroft.

“Detective Inspector Lestrade! You called due to a situation with my brother?”

The other man looked up, a smile spreading across his face. Almost as if he was happy that Mycroft had come down to the station. 

“Mister Holmes! Sure, I take you to him. Anderson got already told to play nice. I hope it sticks.”

Anderson, that was the name.

Without another word, Greg started to walk through the office, just assuming that Mycroft would follow. Another thing that Mycroft liked about the other man. He wasn’t intimidated by Mycroft.

“Is he in a holding cell?” Mycroft asked with a sigh, not even bothering to hide his irritation.

“Yes, but it’s not locked. He went there himself, yelling that he didn’t want to see anyone. I hope you can get him out. I get it, it’s safe for him right now, but we have Friday and we will need that cell in a couple of hours. On another note, may I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure.” Mycroft answered, still distracted - why Sherlock would feel safe in a cell was beyond him, but then a lot of things were beyond him when it concerned Sherlock.

“Would you like to go out with me? Not this week, mind you, but I’m free next Friday and Saturday.”

Mycroft stopped. That was… unexpected. Greg just looked at him, the smile smaller now but still there.

“What?”

“If not, no harm is done. I just thought it would be nice. I like you and would like to get to know you better - and it seems that it’s mutually. If not, as I said, no harm is done.”

Mycroft was pretty certain he didn’t stare at the other man with his mouth hanging open, but he felt as if he did. And Greg? He just stood there, relaxed, no sign of being uncomfortable or irritated that Mycroft took longer for an answer than it should take.

Because _no one_ asked. It was always the other way around

“I… would like that. Pretty much actually. Saturday would be good.”

The grin on Greg’s face was surprising, but not unwelcome.

“Very good. I’ll text you the details if you don’t mind? I already have a restaurant in mind. Sure, nothing that’s as fancy as you’re probably used to, but they have decent food and it’s not a sports bar. Thought you would appreciate that.”

Yes, he would, Mycroft thought, but didn’t say it. 

“That’s acceptable. Now, my brother?”  
Surprisingly, it didn’t end after the first date. They had to reschedule the second date a few times (politics, sadly, never waited for anyone), and that went pretty well, too.

Mycroft didn’t know what to make out of it. They found topics they could talk about. They found out which topics they _couldn’t_ talk about (both weren’t surprised that sports were among them). It made most things pretty… easy.

And now, the famous third date.

Mycroft had thought about canceling it. Or just not going to it. Or rescheduling and thinking up an excuse. But that was rude and wouldn’t really help him in this situation. Because Mycroft didn’t want to call this whole thing off. Just the stuff that usually came with the third date. People expected a certain intimacy with it. Intimacy that went above chaste kisses and hand holding, which he was comfortable about (cuddling depended on the day, but happily, this time people's assumptions played into his hand. They just didn’t expect him to like cuddling.)

It wasn’t as if he was _uncomfortable_ during sex. It just wasn’t high on his list. Or anywhere on his list. He could have it. It would be okay. A bit disgusting, as bodily acts usually were, but well… nothing more. But his partners were usually satisfied and that was what mattered, right?

And he was pretty sure he could endure it a few times for the sake of a starting relationship.

That still didn’t change the fact that it was always on his mind. The whole drive to Greg’s flat (because, of course, Greg had invited Mycroft into his home) or during dinner. But at least it didn’t seem to be that obvious, because Greg only asked twice, and that was the usual ratio.

And when they finished the food and Greg put the dishes into the sink? Yes, he could admit that he was nervous. He was a grown-up after all. And the kissing afterward was actually kind of nice, even if there was a bit much body fluid for him. But then, that’s kissing, so it was to be expected. And it wouldn’t last forever.

But when Greg started to unbutton Mycroft’s dress shirt, the thoughts came back. Mycroft pushed them aside. They weren’t needed now and he was pretty sure that Greg looked very good blissed out. 

And then the heat was suddenly gone. Instead, Greg was looking at him with a strange expression, looking almost concerned. His lip was red from the kissing, shimmering a bit with spit. The blush just highlighted the aroused look.

A very good look, indeed.

“Mycroft? Everything okay?”

“Sure.”

It wasn’t a lie. He was fine. He was just not… as into it as Greg might be.

Greg raised an eyebrow.

“Sure. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I didn’t try to hurry you. I am apologizing for it.”

“No need to apologize. It’s just not my favorite thing in the world. I need a bit of time to build up the right headspace for sexual intercourse.”

Greg just blinked at him a few seconds before there was something like realization on his face. He walked to the couch and sat down, buttoning his shirt again.

“You don’t like sex.”

“That’s a bit harsh. It’s a bit more difficult.”

Greg just nodded before he sighed.

“Are you… Uhm… completely asexual?”

Mycroft could admit that he was surprised that Greg knew that term for human sexuality.

“No. As I said, it’s an act I need to be in the right headspace for. It doesn’t really do anything for me, but I know that it does for most people. And I have nothing against sex. It’s just…”

“Yeah. Not your favorite thing. I understood.”

“You won’t need to worry about it, though, as long this is not a… how do people say? Deal-breaker? I enjoy what we have too much for it.”

Greg just laughed humorlessly and stood up. His expression was open if a bit hesitant.

“Hell, Mycroft. If you don’t care for sex, that’s okay. If you like to have it sometimes, I’m absolutely on board with that. But… well, it’s not a must, I think. I’m a grown-up, I can handle my own hand for a bit longer. I just guarantee how I stand by it in a couple of years.”

“That’s understandable. No one can predict the future.”

At least not the future that would happen in a few years. But for now? It sounded fine.

“Anything else that’s off the table? For today. For tomorrow, we should maybe talk about what we are willing to do or aren’t willing to do.” Greg said, sitting on the couch again. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. This was an… unusual situation, but certainly not one he was uncomfortable with.

“That sounds acceptable. And I liked the prior evenings as they were.”

Greg smiled up at him.

“That’s good. Then let’s oust everything else until tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a request, [just visit my Tumblr and drop me a message](https://ruquas.tumblr.com/)


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